Socks Fetishism

I recall this day every day at least once since it happened. On my way back from the campus to my apartment I said to myself "why wouldn’t I reward myself with a good and over-priced coffee and a nice, sweet pastry?". Oh, what a mistake it has been. I was sitting and read messages and some news while drinking my Americano. I felt someone was watching me, truly. "Nah you're just tired" I thought to myself. Right after I got out of the café someone stumbled at me and I felt a sharp small stab on my shoulder while I texted my girlfriend. Things got dizzy 2 minutes after that. I struggled to continue walking when I felt someone taking me into a van. After that – blackout. I really don’t know what happened exactly in the following hours. I woke up in some kind of stone basement – like in a castle. I was tied up in my legs knees hands and elbows behind my back. My mouth was gagged as I noticed as I tried to shout. I was completely naked in addition. Fuck. I thought to myself. I tried not to panic but I panicked. Started to wriggle and more helplessly while trying to get out of my weird position. I heard a heavy door getting unlocked.

Welcome, I see you're settling in funnily and happy to be here. A large man said.

AwahhahwhwahhmmmI answered.

You were chosen from many – and you'll be perfect. The man said and walked away. Two other men took me tied up and put me in a small cell on wheels. The cell got locked and I was pushed out of the basement. The castle was lightened with lights that matched candles. After 2 minutes of walking we entered a room with a big screen and a dentists chair. Don't you dare messing around. The man said while the 2 other bodyguards got me loosen up out of my ties. I tried to fight but I felt extremely tired. I got attached to the dentist's chair while I exhaustedly tried to fight. Here, drink some water. The man said. I nodded for no. In the water or in a very painful injection – you decide. My gag got removed and the 2 bodyguards held my mouth. Ahhhahahahahahaahhhh!!!! I shouted while they poured the water into my mouth. After I swallowed the water they returned the gag and attached my eyelids to small claws. The next 16 or so hours were pure brainwashing – ballet classes, ballet variations and some servants/butler video guides. What the fuck, where am I? It took forever and for a certain time I couldn’t stop thinking about what I saw. The two bodyguards entered the darkened room and freed me from the chair.

I can't recall exactly what happened but I woke up in a stone dorm room: bed, small sink and a small dresser. It had a tiny window that showed a big lawn and forests. Silence, like no one could hear my pleadings to get free. I spotted at least 3 cameras filming me naked trying to find a way out. A robotic voice appeared: "wear what's in the dresser and stand by the door". It repeated 3 times. I opened the dresser and found a paper explaining what I have to wear: grey unitard, dancebelt (I didn’t know what it meant), socks and white "slippers". I opened the drawers and saw things that matches the description:

Put the thong underwear first and pull your penis and balls pointing up

Put the unitard through the neck hole and make tour penis visible

Put in the socks and then the slippers. pull your socks high and put it under the unitard.

I got insane. I looked at one of the cameras and shouted "Let me fucking out!!!!!" I tried to open the door or break the window. Every hard thing was pinned to the floor or the wall. The voice appeared one more: "wear what's in the dresser and stand by the door". Two seconds passed and three bodyguards with corona masks. They all grabbed me and closed the door behind. The tazed me with electric shock and left me wriggle on the floor for a minute. After that I was forced to lay in bed and one guard brought the clothes from the drawer. In a few seconds while I was screaming, I was completely dressed. I was carried through some corridors to a somekind of dance studio – similar to the one my girlfriend took me to so I can try Pilates once. I was put in a small chair and the bodyguards attached a light shock collar. I was so shocked by the taser earlier so I almost didn’t resist and mostly tried to sit straight. A man in tight shirt and loose jogger pants was there and looked at me. "You will do everything I say or you'll be punished. Understood?"

"let me out… please" I said quietly and the collar was activated. It hurt. "Ahhahahah!!!!" I shouted. "what do you want for me??? Let me out!" I continued. "Everything will be clear later, now stand up and obey my orders". I could saw one bodyguard keeping us. "every time you're standing infront of someone, you will stand in 3rd position – with one ankle next to your other foot's ark like this." I hesitated and got a light shock. "Ahhowuu" I shouted. "Put your legs in 3rd position – now". I fixed my feet and stood straight. "Better" the man said. "From now on you'll call me "master" – the only words you need to say are "yes master and no master – understood?"

I hesitated again but soon said "y….yes"

"yes what?"

"y…y…yes sir".

"good boy!. Now you will need to learn some moves. It'll take some time but I'm sure you'll get it." The man continued explaining about ballet positions with my body and feet and I followed his ordered, shaken. I received several shocks during these hours. I still wandered why the hell they want from me and how I can escape. After a few hours I think, the bodyguards grabbed me to a different room. There stood a different man in a suit. I stood Infront of him quietly for 3 seconds until I asked "please, can you get me out? Please my family has plenty of money". The man ignored my question and asked "didn’t you listen to your ballet master? Stand in position". I fell to my knees and begged – I was tired, hurt from beating and electric shocks and started to cry. I haven’t cried in years till that day. "Please…. Please let me out. I won't tell anyone".

"Stand in position boy, now." I was electrified once again, strong pulse and I shouted in agony.

I stood up slowly and stood in position. "I'm your teacher for serving superior men. Here you'll learn manners and how to serve as a butler, footman, servant or just sub". I was exhausted already and spent with the teacher additional few hours. There I also got numerous shocks to my neck. The teacher taught me positions, answering and talking, balance, walking quietly and with grace. Once we finished the first lesson, I felt I'm seconds from fainting. Two large guards grabbed me and took me away from the training room back to my room. There I was stripped down and tied up to my bed with segufix. All tries to resist were pathetic of me. A butt plug was inserted and a strict hood with a penis-gag.

I'm not sure how much time I spent in this facility – every day was the same: ballet lesson, serving lesson, some brainwashing and sexual training. Step by step I started to feel more submissive, I gave up fighting and started trying to be the best I can – so maybe the situation will be better. I started to feel confident in ballet moves and did my best in serving. The mantras from the brainwashing worked – I didn’t think about my previous life, my girlfriend, my family or my studies or future. I thought increasingly about serving and dancing and about sucking dick and getting fucked. It was more than a few weeks, maybe months in this facility but I'm not sure.

One day I was led after the ballet class to a luxury and old-fashioned office. I was set in the chair and got tied up by leather wristbands. The man from my first day here appeared and set down behind the desk. I've told you you'll be perfect – and here you are, a perfect slaveboy ready for shipment.  Shipment?? I thought to myself. In the last months you demonstrated as a perfect example of our method. You had many fans during your stay here but only one won the auction – you'll meet him tomorrow and wow… he'll get the best out of you. I wanted to congratulate you on the end of your process here. You'll be prepared to ship and take off tomorrow. Be a proud ambassador of our facility and do good until… who knows? Anyway – good luck with your new life.

With these words the guards took me to a nearby dressing room. They stripped me down of my ballet uniform and brought cleaning amenities: they shaved me, did me a haircut, showered me and applied hair spray. They applied a certain cream on my whole body while I pleaded and asked what was going on. They ignored my questions and held me in place while starting to dress me again: a dance belt, white footed tights, suit breeches, dress shirt leotard. Collar and tie, vest and a black tail blazer. Lastly – a shiny pair of black opera pumps. A proper servant one guard said. I was taken to the other side of the room and got photographed a few times. Just a few seconds and I was stripped down again. They dragged me to another corner of the room and connected me to a wrapping machine. Soon I was wrapped in wrapping plastic like a suitcase. They applied a hood with oxygen mask and put me in a designated wooden box. Full darkness. I don’t know how much time I spent in that box. The box moved and was thrown a few times. After some time, the box was opened. It was a different place. A person dressed like I was dressed in the pictures looked at me and said: Welcome to your new life slave.

*different storyline*

One day, Sir came to my room while I was studying. “Boy I have some news”. “What is it sir?” I replied. “A company I’m consulting to is going to have negotiations for a deal in Paris in a week so I’ll need to go for some time.” “For how long sir?” I asked. “I don’t know exactly, a week minimum but it can go for a long time even after the sealing. The company is giving me an open check for a nice hotel room to help them.” I didn’t really realized completely what is exactly sir’s job and where he got all the money he got but anyway sub-boys like me don’t supposed to stick their nose. It’ll be hard without sir for a long period of time but I know from previous experience that he won’t leave me behind but he can also loosen my leash for a while for me to rest. “It sounds very good to move to Paris for a few weeks sir”. I said. “That’s why I want you to go with me.” Sir replied.

“Uhhhh really sir?” I wondered.

“Yes boy, I have great plans for you.” It doesn’t sounds good.

The week passed and we got ready to take off. I, obviously, got my ready-made suitcase and bag by sir. Sir wore a suit and I wore chinos, a shirt and tie and a sweater. It was autumn already and it was a bit cold. I carried all the luggage for both of us and carried out some of the arrangements sir hated like standing in lines. We got our business class seats and arrived in a few hours to Paris. Sir got a beautiful suite with a grand bedroom for him and a small children’s bedroom for me. The hotel seemed extremely expensive and had some great location. We ate dinner and had some good time together for sir and his sub. The next morning sir planned some things for us to see. We got downstairs and sir ordered me to get my small duffle bag. We got into a black car and drove around the city for 15 minutes. After a few turns the car stopped. Sir approached to me: “boy, I’ll continue alone from here, you need to enter this home and you’ll have further instructions.” “What? Sir I thought we’ll spend this day together.”

“Boy, do as I said and enter this building, you’ll have great time. Anyway you’ll need to get used to it”

“Sir I don’t understand…”

“Boy get out now” sir ordered.

I got out and sir pointed out to an entrance. By the entrance was a 40ish year old French lady. “Come along please” she said with heavy French accent. She uttered “Le code de la porte est le 4378, souvenez-vous-en car je ne le répéterai plus.” I didn’t understand a word in French. But I got that it’s the door code. We climbed 3 floors and got into a dancing studio. “dépêchez-vous et portez votre uniforme de danse s'il vous plaît. attendez-moi à votre position actuelle dans la classe.” I understood only 2 words and followed them - wear your uniform. I opened the duffle bag and found what I thought: a Parisian ballet school uniform: white leotard, dance belt, grey footed tights, a grey belt and grey shoes. There was also character shoes, pointe shoes and other type of leotard.in the bag there was another small bag - girls uniform. I wore it and got to the classroom.

The teacher had a cane and continued talking aggressively French. “nous aurons quelques heures de bases de ballet, puis un peu de technique et de style. Peut-être un peu d'entraînement au répertoire si vous vous comportez bien. Pour chaque erreur, une canne vous frappera.” We started on stretching and then continued with bar work, jumps, positions, moves and more stretching. Apart from short water breaks I trained for 7 hours straight. While I had bad splits and jumps, the teacher hit me hardly with her stick and used her harms and legs to correct me aggressively.

“C'est tout pour aujourd'hui pédé, mets tes vêtements et on se voit demain. A demain tarlouze.” I didn’t know then what she said but the word “pede” stayed on my mind. I changed back into my normal clothes: chino pants, black loafers, sheer socks, white t shirt and a quarter zip. A few moments after I got out, the same black car arrived and I got inside and met sir. “How was your day boy?”

I looked at him slightly angry. “It was very tough sir, the teacher was very physical”. (Physical means she hit me). “Well she’s the best, I think you’ll learn to appreciate her teaching.” He said while looking at his phone, texting.

“Won’t we have some time together sir?” I asked. “Well son I have some things to attend to, maybe when I’ll have some time off.”

We ate dinner and got back to the room. The next morning everything repeated itself: the same black car, the same duffle bag and the same Parisian building. That time the teacher didn’t wait for me outside. I pressed bell and had no answer. I suddenly remembered the code from yesterday and pressed 4378. The door opened and I climbed to the studio. I knocked on the door and she stood there waiting for me: “Tu es en retard, petit pédé. Entre.” I got in and got dressed as yesterday. Same routine as yesterday, same spanking and hitting and stepping on my toes. She kept calling me the same 2 names: “pede” and “tarlouze”. I kept these in my mind to check them later. After some hits I started understanding some of the French words. This day I got 20 minutes for a very light lunch that consisted of an apple, small baguette pieces and cheese. I finished the day after 8 hours of training. We practiced today some character, jazz and even some pointe in the end.

The same following days were similar: duffle bag, black car, sir pushing me out of the car, me entering the studio and changes, countless and exhausting training for hours with light lunch, meeting with sir and eating out dinner. After a few days sir came with an announcement: “I heard from your teacher you’re doing good job with your dance and even with your French boy. I’m proud of you.”

“Thank you sir, I appreciate it although it’s very hard sir”. I answered quietly.

“Tomorrow we’ll have a little change boy.”

“Sir?” I asked

“Shhhh. From tomorrow you’ll stop wearing your regular clothes I packed for you and you’ll start wearing a French uniform - similar to the one you had in your English experience a few months ago.”

“Sir please it was so embarrassing that time”

“Boy I didn’t asked for your opinion on this matter. So quiet or you’ll suffer consequences.”

“Sorry sir”

“So” he continued “from tomorrow you’ll wear one of 2 uniforms: ballet or student uniforms. One on your way to your studio and one on your classes. I’ll continue to drive you in the next coming days.”

“Sir, please reconsider this, please” I begged.

“One more time and you’re out - you don’t want to experience the rest of our time here in punishment right?”

“I don’t sir” I answered

“So shut up boy.”

We drove quietly to the hotel. I got to my room and saw all my old clothes are gone from the closet. My new uniform was: white shirt, navy blue sweater, navy blue extra short shorts, white knee socks and a selection between 3 black shoes: loafers, pumps and Mary Janes. I almost fainted. Sir got in “I hope you’ll like it, a French friend of mine recommended it for you.”

I almost didn’t sleep at night thinking of the public humiliation. The next morning I got up and put my uniform : this morning with loafers.

I felt so boyish and humiliated. I got my duffle bag and got out with sir. We passed throughout the hotel and it seemed everyone looked at us. When I arrived at class the teacher said happily: “Enfin ! Tu as l’air d’un vrai petit garçon. Tu es un si bon pédé!” This current situation was short. After the class we came back to the hotel and the next 3 days, except changing shoes, was the same.

Sir was near closing with the deal. Sir approached me then on dinner and said “well tomorrow starts our last week here, and I got a special surprise for you boy. From tomorrow until the end of our stay, you’ll start taking the metro with your uniform - it’s time to show everyone what good boy you are!”

Shit!!! I thought to myself.

“Sir please, the uniform is embarrassing as it is.”

“Boy, I already decided that it’ll be good for your boyism. Don’t look at me that way because it is set.”

We checked the route together and he tested me. The journey wasn’t short and included a line exchange. I wanted to be buried alive.

The next morning I got ready to get out an hour earlier so I could arrive in time. Today’s shoes: luckily, loafers.